Polyester
by RedVoidWriting
Summary: "Who needs friends? I can cut myself and the feeling will be the same," I say while looking straight in her eyes. "It's even better because I could do it without you or anyone at all!"


I just want to feel it one more time - the best part of my day - when my mind is enraptured in blissful feelings and reality melts away like a transient dream.

It is dark and musty. This is how closets are supposed to be. I close my eyes and run a kitchen knife across my wrist. My arm reflexively jolts in response to the burning pain and at first I let out a small scream, but I know what comes next. As predicted, a rush of chemicals come to my aid, coddling my brain in what can only be described as pure ecstacy. The high was not only blissful, but familiar. The one thing I could rely on.

 _This is perfect._ I think, as I lay my head back and close my eyes.

Suddenly, I hear my father's voice reverberate through the closet wall.

My mind is still rusty, but I recognize his voice in an instant. It isn't even the volume but the tone that sends shivers down my spine.

Earlier today he yelled at me for coming home late. Classic stuff.

The difference this time was he was drunk, and he called mom to yell at her too. He was bad enough sober, but when you added alcohol to the mix he was the kind of person that would get the cops called in three seconds.

Funny, the last time my dad drank alcohol was when grandma died.

I thought about giving myself another dose of endorphins, but today was a special day so I passed. I opened my closet and found myself in my room. I unraveled the polyester cloth that I had tied around my wrist slowly in order to sabor the the red hue of the cloth. It was like all my pain had come out in the color red. I smiled.

Fortunately, I didn't have to bleed anymore in order to feel happy because tonight was "mom night."

That's right, mom night.

I know I'm 16 and I should care more about girls and parties than spending time with my mom - and you know what? I put on a pretty good show.

But there is something about my mother's sweet smile combined with that special scent of hers that reminds me so much of a rose garden that makes me feel like life isn't half-bad.

Too bad she is never home.

She says she has work but I know she is just hiding from my dad.

I ball up my fist and feel something moist and crumpled in my hand.

That's right, my report card. There was 2 B's scribbled in red next to my ninja history and calligraphy classes and an A+ next to my shuriken class. Not perfect but way better than last year.

That's why I knew. There was no way my mom would miss mom night tonight. She would always tell me: "Staying in school and getting good grades is the best thing you can do for me. The best thing."

Thinking back, I don't think my dad ever went to school.

I shake my head as if to remove the thought of him through my ears and I fix my smile.

Then, I jump knee-first onto my bed. It has starship sheets and it's next to a tall window that lets me see the driveway.

From someone viewing from the outside, I probably looked like a puppy starving for a bone, what with my big saucer eyes that my mother always teases me for and my small nose that flares up when I'm excited.

I wonder what I am going to order when we go to my favorite restaurant. I humor myself by thinking that I might order something new but I know I will get the double-scoop of green tea mocha ice cream with the chocolate wafer straw that I use to suck up all the melted ice cream that's left over after I finish talking with my mom.

To my surprise, it started raining. _That's funny_ , I think. _The sky was clear this morning_.

My heart starts to grow anxious as the little crooked arms of my toylike alarm clock spin in little circles.

9:00...

9:30...

11:00...

12:00

My head is drooping at this point. My favorite restaurant has already closed but I quickly remind myself that it is my mom's company that matters. Maybe we could go to the 24-hour convenience store that those panda cookies and sit on the pier munching them while we tell stories.

My ears perk up instantly as I hear footsteps. Someone is climbing the stairs. My heart starts to race with anticipation and I probably look like an idiot.

I did not see my mom enter the driveway so maybe she took a bus. She did that from time to time.

 _The important thing is that she is here_ , I tell myself before rushing through the door.

Suddenly my head slams against something heavy and I fall backwards. As my forehead begins to swell with pain all I can see is darkness.

I lift my head and see not my mom, but my dad. He has on a tan trench coat that is only matched in thickness by the skin on his hands.

He doesn't say a word. He just stands there for a while as I lay there, crumpled.

It is only then that I notice the object in his hand. A belt. It hangs down and sways like a leathery snake readying to strike at a moment's notice.

As my eyes tiptoe up to his face I begin to realize what is about to happen.

I had not expected it because my mind had perhaps erased it from memory as a defense mechanism - as if I had brainwashed myself with a genjutsu to prevent permanent damage to my soul. But sitting on the cold floor in the shadow of my father who wears curdled lips that quiver with greater and greater intensity, there can be no denying it.

There would be no ice cream tonight.


End file.
